


Under Pressure

by celtic7irish



Series: Discord Key Challenge Fics [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky needs a hug, Gen, Steve's trying, Stressed Bucky, Tony Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 03:22:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14035107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celtic7irish/pseuds/celtic7irish
Summary: Barnes is under pressure.  From Steve, to remember who he was, and maybe to be him again.  From SHIELD, to give them information about Hydra, about his former handlers.  From governments all over the world, to pay for war crimes that he didn’t remember committing.  When he finally boils over, everybody notices.  But who can help?





	Under Pressure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Politzania](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Politzania/gifts).



> For the prompt: Pressure

Bucky was usually very good at keeping quiet.  “Eerily quiet,” Stark had called it, once.  Even he couldn’t pinpoint the reason he preferred silence, though he knew there were several.  Some of it came from being an assassin, where the silence and the darkness allowed you to sneak up on your target and strike before they were even aware there was any danger.  Maybe it had to do with having been under Hydra’s control and learning the hard way that silence was far safer than risking actual words.  Maybe he just had that many damn secrets to keep, or maybe he simply had nothing to say.  Whatever the reason, Barnes generally preferred to keep himself as quiet and unobtrusive as possible.

Which is why, when Bucky finally lost it, they noticed.  Kind of hard not to, really.

“What do you want from me, Steve?” he demanded.  Shouted, really.  “I’m not him.  I’m not the Bucky you knew!”

Steve held up his hands in surrender.  “Buck, that’s not -” he tried, but Bucky cut him off.

“Yes, it is,” he snapped.  “You want your best friend Bucky back, but I can’t give him to you! Just like I can’t give Shield answers about Hydra!  Not to mention the governments that want mission intel!  Everybody wants something, and you’re no different!” He emphasized his words by jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest with enough force to bruise.  “Just...leave me alone!”

“Bucky!” Steve protested as he whirled around, stalking towards the elevators.  Romanov was leaning against a wall, and Bucky gave her an angry scowl as he stormed past.  The redhead just raised her eyebrows, unimpressed with his ire.

The elevators opened as he approached them, revealing Stark, who was, as usual, not paying attention to what was around him.  His focus was on the tablet in his hand, and he was talking into thin air.  Steve had explained the concept of bluetooth, and Barnes could see the small earpiece tucked behind Stark’s ear.  But he could care less about that.  “Watch it!” he snapped at the other man, causing Stark to look up in surprise.

“Oh, hey, Buckaroo,” he greeted.  “Uh, wait….what?” he mumbled as Barnes blew past him, stalking into the elevator.

“My floor,” he growled, biting back anything more.  Jarvis might not be human, but he had almost completely autonomy within the Tower, and Bucky knew that pissing him off was never a good idea.  He’d tolerate rudeness, to a point.

 _“Of course, Sergeant,”_ the AI responded, his tone a bit chilly.  Barnes winced; it seemed his rudeness to Jarvis’ creator hadn’t gone unnoticed.   _“I am given to understand from sir that you are under a considerable amount of stress.  As sir has displayed similar tendencies in the past when his workload became untenable, I am willing to overlook this instance.  However, I strongly recommend that you take a moment to consider just whose home you are in.”_

Bucky nodded glumly.  “Yeah,” he agreed, morose.  “I’ll apologize to him after I get my head on straight.”  The anger was still simmering under the surface, and he knew it wouldn’t take much for it to rise to the surface again.  It would do him no good to attempt to apologize now and fail.

 _“Very good, Sergeant,”_ Jarvis approved, opening the elevator doors to let Bucky out on the floor that Tony had designed especially for him.  Thinking about that just made him feel even guiltier, and he hunched his shoulders as he slunk across the living room and into the bedroom.  He’d take a long shower, see if maybe that cooled his head a bit.

Stripping, he stepped into the water that was already running, grateful that Jarvis didn’t turn the water ice cold or something on him. Tipping his head back into the spray, Bucky forcefully pushed all the thoughts crowding his head as far away as he could, locking them away.  He’d have to deal with them eventually.  But eventually was not right now.

When the shower was done, Bucky put on some oversized, comfortably warm sweatpants.  Wrapping a towel across his shoulders, he decided to let his hair air dry.  He padded barefoot into the living room, deciding to get some food really quick.  Then he’d seek out Stark and apologize, because Jarvis was right.  Stark had been kind enough to open his doors to the wayward Soldier, even knowing that Bucky was responsible for killing his parents under Hydra’s orders, and Bucky had practically thrown that kindness back in his face.

It turned out that he wouldn’t have to find Stark, after all, since the man was waiting for him when he walked out, hovering just inside the lift.  Bucky grimaced at the reminder of yet another gift that Tony had given him, albeit unknowingly.  Tony had promised him - as he’d promised the others - that he would never invade their floor without their permission unless it was an absolute emergency.  He’d even allowed them to program their own lockout codes that would keep him off their floors entirely.  Bucky had used the feature extensively when he’d first moved into the Tower, testing the limits of his freedom.  And true to his word, when Bucky had initiated lockdown, nobody had been allowed on his floor.  Except once, and that was only because Bucky had remembered murdering Stark’s parents and had freaked out completely.

“Hey,” Stark greeted carefully, looking Bucky over and trying not to be obvious about it.  He met Bucky’s eyes after a moment.  “So...normally I wouldn’t intrude on your personal time,” he continued, “but I have some news that I thought I’d deliver personally.”  He hesitated when Bucky said nothing.  “But I can always go, if you want,” he offered.  “We can talk later.”

Bucky blinked.  “Oh, sorry,” he said, shaking his head.  “Please, come in.  I need to apologize anyhow.”  His eyes flicked down to the floor for a moment before he looked back up.  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.  You’ve been kind, opening your doors to me, even knowing,” he hesitated, then pushed forward, “even knowing what I did.”

Stark’s expression shuttered at the reminder, and Bucky winced.  They lived in a sort of mutual non-discussion about Howard and Maria’s death.  Bucky was breaking all kinds of rules right now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stark told him, waving away his apology.  “I mean, it’s nice that you want to apologize, but I’ve seen the kind of shit they’re trying to do to you.  The last time that happened, I called a Congressional Committee a bunch of assclowns.”  Bucky snorted; he had seen that joke of a meeting.

“Yes, well, they wanted your tech,” he muttered, leading the way to the kitchen.  Stark followed easily, pulling his tablet back out from wherever he’d stashed it.  “In my case, they just want me.”

Stark snorted.  “They don’t want you, either,” he argued.  “They want the Winter Soldier.  Who is a ghost.  And Bucky Barnes was declared dead over seventy years ago.   _The only member of the Howling Commandos to give his life_ _in service of his country_ ,” he said, as if it was something that he’d said before, repeatedly.

Bucky paused in the act of reaching into the fridge to look back at Stark with a frown.  “But I’m not dead,” he pointed out.

Stark rolled his eyes.  “Obviously,” he said.  “But according to the law, you absolutely are.  There was a funeral and everything.  It will take years to have you declared alive again and all your assets unfrozen.”  He smirked.  “Well, at least it _would_ , if I left it up to any old lawyer,” he said.  “Luckily, I know a guy who’s really good at his job.  And he enjoys cases like yours.”

“Like mine?” Bucky asked, curious despite himself.  He’d never really thought about what it meant to be considered deceased.

Stark grinned.  “Yeah.  Impossible,” he said cheerfully.  “Because in addition to having you declared alive, he’s also got to convince whoever that you’re not the Winter Soldier.”

“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” Bucky pointed out.  “Because even I can’t lie that convincingly.  I remember what I did, Stark.  Well, most of it, at any rate.”

Stark nodded.  “Already took that into account,” he said dismissively.  “Steve’s on his way to get a full pardon for one James Buchanan Barnes.  And to have the Winter Soldier declared a nonperson.  It’s not like Hydra was really forthcoming about your existence.  And Jarvis pulled all the data he could from Nat’s infodump, so the Winter Soldier is still just a rumor.  Matt is working on contingencies, though, just in case.”

Bucky found himself grateful that Stark wasn’t just writing off the possibility that the various governments of countries where the Winter Soldier had operated would find a way around the pardon to get to him.  It was reassuring to know that there other plans in place.  Because as much as Bucky agreed that he should have to pay for his crimes as the Soldier, he couldn’t do that by rotting in a jail cell or being executed.

“Thanks, Stark,” he acknowledged.  “I...really appreciate that.  But you don’t have to.  I don’t need protecting.  I did terrible things.”

Stark snorted.  “Yes,” he agreed.  “And I built weapons that ended up in the hands of terrorists and got a lot of good men killed.  They called me the Merchant of Death.  Does that make me inherently evil?”

Bucky shook his head.  “It’s not the same!” he insisted.  “You didn’t know!”

“And neither did you,” Stark countered.  “They wiped you after every mission.  You didn’t know what you were doing, either!  Not in any real way.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest, then closed it, considering Stark’s words.  “You...might have a point,” he admitted.  As much as he felt guilty for all the deaths he’d caused, most of them held no emotional attachment for him.  They were facts; who he killed, when he killed them, maybe a reason for their deaths provided by Hydra.  But he didn’t actually _remember_ them.  They were more like very horrible nightmares than something real, no matter what history said otherwise.

“Of course I do!” Stark sniffed, as if his genius had ever been in doubt.  Bucky hid his grin by dint of sticking his head in the fridge and pulling out the makings for a sandwich.  

They fell into a companionable silence while Bucky put a couple of sandwiches together, dropping one onto a separate plate and setting it in front of Tony, who blinked down at it like he’d never seen food before shrugging and setting his tablet down in favor of taking a large bite out of the sandwich.

“Mmm,” Tony moaned, his eyes closing as he savored the ham and cheese sandwich.  Bucky felt his cheeks heat up at the sound; Tony sounded like he was having sex, not eating a simple sandwich that had taken Bucky less than a minute to throw together.

“If you think that’s good, you should taste my grilled cheese,” he joked, feeling some of the tension from earlier drain out of him as Stark laughed delightedly.  Stark obviously wasn’t upset at his rudeness, and had, apparently been working on solutions to reduce some of the pressure on Bucky.

Which brought up another question, actually.  Setting down his sandwich with both hands, Bucky took a breath and then looked up, meeting Stark’s questioning look through his bangs.  “Why?” he asked.  “Why’re you doin’ this? Helpin’ me?” he clarified.  “I mean, I get why _Steve_ wants to, he can’t seem to help it, but you don’t have any reason to be helpin’ me.  You’ve done so much already.”

Stark rolled his eyes.  “Seriously? You have to ask?” he demanded.  Bucky tried not to flinch, and Stark sighed heavily.  “Okay, fine.  I’m doing it because I know what’s it’s like, okay?  When I got back from….when I got back,” he started, and Bucky filled in the blanks, “everybody wanted a piece of me. They wanted my tech, they wanted me to answer for Gulmira, SHIELD wanted me for tech support and the Avengers, though I’m not really sure about the last.”

He paused, meeting Bucky’s eyes.  “You’re not the only one who’s been through this.  Bruce has, too.  And even Natasha.  It comes with being who we are.”

“And who are we?” Bucky asked quietly.  

Stark smiled grimly. “We’re whoever we want to be,” he replied easily.  Bucky nodded; he’d expected an answer like that.  But he had no idea who he was _now_ , much less who he wanted to be.

Stark must’ve seen his doubtful look, because his smile softened.  “Look, Barnes, I know it’s hard, but Steve really does mean well.  He knows that you’re not the same person he knew, just like he’s not the same guy you knew before the war, but he’s trying.  He just wants to give you back as much of your past as he can.  But he’ll back off if you tell him to,” he said.

Bucky nodded glumly.  He knew that, but Steve seemed so happy whenever he showed an interest in his past, or remembered some little forgotten detail of his past, that Bucky hated to disappoint him.  Which just made him shut down instead.

“But if you want, I can talk to him,” Stark offered next.  Bucky raised an eyebrow, and Stark chuckled.  “Yeah, okay, probably not the best idea.  I can have Nat talk to him instead.”

Bucky smiled, his head ducking back down.  “Thanks, Stark,” he said quietly.

Stark grinned, pleased.  “Call me Tony,” he offered, holding out his hand.  Bucky grinned back, reaching out to shake Tony’s hand.

‘“Bucky.”


End file.
